The Lovers Scorned Kiss Curse
by siren of titan
Summary: HBP-AU story. Hermione is crushed to see Ron dating Lavender. One day while trying to avoid seeing them, she finds herself in an odd situation that turns serious very quickly when Hermione accidentally gets hit by a love curse- please review!thanx
1. Chapter 1

a/n: this is an old story I had to reupload..so I'm doing it in installments. If you haven't yet read it please give it a go and let me know what you think!

Chapter 1 Wrong Place, Wrong Time

It was one of the last weekends in Hogsmeade before Christmas break and Hermione was making her way through the familiar village with Harry in tow. They were one man down since Ron recently took up with Lavender, but for all Hermione said, Harry might as well have been walking alone. An uneasy look covered her face, as she stared off, thinking. She kept seeing the image of Ron kissing Lavender play over and over in her mind. The last couple of weeks were torture, with those two seeming to pop up everywhere she went. Her only refuge was in the library, because she knew the likelihood of the two of them venturing in there was slim. Every day, she did her best to ignore him and act like he didn't exist, but then she worried he was too taken with Lavender to remember he ever had a friend named Hermione Granger, and felt a cold panic course through her veins. Walking on, she thought the whole mess over once more and decided, right then and there, to refuse to let Ron have that much hold over her. So what if she could feel his eyes on her when she looked away? So what if it send a thrilling shiver down her spine?

_That was only when he didn't have his tongue shoved down that tart's throat_, she huffed, remembering her anger. _No, stop this right now, Hermione_, she ordered in her head, when thoughts of turning back to the sanctuary of the library seeped in. She wouldn't give up her freedom to trek to Hogsmeade because she might run into them. Glancing over at Harry, Hermione worried that she was neglecting her friend by being so sullen and she was determined not to bring Harry down with her problems. However, only a half hour into the trip, Hermione decided she had had enough. Her resolve all but gone before it ever really began. It took three seconds of walking into the Three Broomsticks to get sick to her stomach.

_Did they have to snog in public?_ she wondered hotly.

Harry seemed to be understanding of her need to get away, though she did feel sorry for ditching him like that.

She stepped back out into the cool crisp air, wrapping her scarf tightly around her mouth and hurrying through the crowd. She slowed down a bit when the crowd thinned and even meandered through various streets, in no real hurry to get back. It surprised her that there were some buildings she had never noticed before. Of course, there was a lot she hadn't bothered to take notice of when she was walking with Harry and Ron, on all their past outings, too busy wrapped in pleasant conversation, or sneaking looks at a certain red headed boy.

A loud commotion caused her head to jerk up, automatically. Without warning, she felt herself being pulled at from behind. She slipped on the icy road and just managed to right herself in time, but the odd pressure was still pushing down on her. It took her a moment to realize what was going on; that someone, some unknown person, had latched themselves to her and was using her body to cower behind.

_What in Merlin's beard is going on here_? she thought, growing more annoyed by the second.

"I didn't kiss her. I swear. Honest love," a groveling, shaky voice spoke over Hermione's shoulder; a man's voice.

"I saw you! Don't give me that love bollocks! You think _she_ loves you!"

The man's voice was clearly shaking now as he said, "Now Viv, don't do anything stupid."

"Excuse me, please," said Hermione impatiently, as she tried to shake the man off. Her efforts only made him latch onto her more tightly, maneuvering her so she stayed between him and the beastly woman coming toward him. The woman had a wild look in her eye and her wand was raised for a fight.

"Come on, sweetie. Put the wand down. Let's go back inside. Talk things through. This is all a terrible misunderstanding," said the sniveling man, as he tried once more to coax her, but the woman's face only became more twisted in rage, with every word that poured from his mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes as she listened to the man beg, and continued to struggle for her freedom.

"I just can't believe ...my mother warned me! Years! Years you've stolen from me! You think you can do this to me and get away with it? I hope you two are happy together," the woman exclaimed with a cruel laugh. Her face then became oddly calm. It reminded Hermione of the calm before the storm. A simple smile played on her lips and even Hermione was more afraid than annoyed at this point. It only lasted a moment and then her face was once more contorted with fury; low quick mutterings began to spew from her lips, her wand held ready to strike.

Hermione felt her whole body turn to ice. She felt like someone had launched a bowling ball into her chest. The ice was beginning to shatter and then….

The next thing Hermione knew, she was waking up and staring, blurry eyed, at a white ceiling.

"Ah. There you are. We were getting worried about you," said Madam Pomfrey, looking down at her.

"What…what happened?" Hermione asked groggily, trying to look around.

"Oh no, dear, lay back down," Madam Pomfrey ordered, watching Hermione struggle. She didn't mind the order. It hurt when she moved.

Confusion colored Hermione's voice as she recollected. "I was walking back to the school… There was a man and a woman."

"That would be Vivian and Irving Hazelwood," informed McGonagall, who suddenly appeared on her left side.

"She's going to be in loads of trouble after what she did to you, isn't she?" It was Harry who spoke now.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, trying to shout, but the sound became stuck in her throat. She hadn't seen him sitting there before he spoke and was happy to have her friend with her at the moment.

"What happened?" she asked confused. "How did I get here?"

"You're lucky Hagrid was doing some Christmas shopping. He heard shouting and found you lying there, along with Mr. and Mrs. Brainless, looking 6 shades of guilt. He scooped you up and brought you straight here. I just ran into him on my way back, or I wouldn't have known you were here."

"And…" she asked expectantly.

"That's about all I know," he admitted.

Harry and Hermione turned to McGonagall, both hoping for some information about what happened. McGonagall looked apprehensive to begin with, but their expectant faces would not let her stall forever.

"I am afraid I have some rather unpleasant news. And unfortunately, there is no getting around it. If I could spare you the knowledge of the truth, trust me, I would." She noticed Hermione's anxious face and added, "Now, I don't want you to trouble yourself just yet. I can't tell how serious this is until I get a few answers from you. I need to know what we're working against here."

Hermione swallowed hard; her heartbeat quickening. She wished the headmistress would tell her already and be done with it.

"It appears you were hit with the love curse Vivian intended for her husband, Irving."

"That prat who was hiding behind me." It was not quite a question.

"It's called _The Lovers Scorned Kiss Curse_ and, unfortunately, it is very tricky to deal with, as is anything involving love," she said with a heavy sigh. "Hermione, I need to ask you some things that may be personal." Her eyes shifted. "Would you rather we speak in private?"

"No—Harry can stay. I don't mind."

"What's this curse all about?" Harry asked now, shooting a concerned look at Hermione and then turning back to McGonagall, expectantly.

"The curse's intent is to cause the victim to physically feel the emotional despair caused by the person they last kissed, on the condition that the victim was truly in love with them. In Vivian's case she wanted her husband to be tortured by Rosemary Turtle, whom she evidently caught him kissing." McGonagall's tone was dark with disgust for the woman. "They should lock her away for throwing out curses like that. Blatant disregard for magical law. What was she thinking?" she muttered under her breath.

"So…let me get this straight…Hermione is going to _pine_ for Rosemary Turtle?" he asked awkwardly, trying to get a grip on the situation, but clearly confused. Hermione sat there biting her lip and staring off into space.

"No, Harry," she replied calmly. "I will vie for the last person I kissed. Vivian wanted her husband to pine for Rosemary and once Rosemary got tired of him, and she knew she would, the true suffering would begin. But instead the curse hit me."

"Yes, that's exactly right. The curse should have never been uttered in the first place, but now Hermione is faced with the repercussions." She paused to survey Hermione in her weakened condition, and then began again.

"Hermione, I don't mean to pry but—the last person you kissed, did you have strong feelings for him? Would you say you were in love? I'm sorry to put you on the spot like this, but I can't help if I don't have all the necessary information."

Hermione looked up at McGonagall, her cheeks reddening. Before she could speak Harry swooped in to answer.

"Krum? No way. He was _way_ more into her. Right, Hermione?"

"Is that right? Were your feelings not very strong for this boy?" A hopeful smile graced her face for an instant, encouragingly.

"It was a very minor crush with Viktor. I definitely wasn't in love with him," she admitted. "But…"

"Oh, well then—that is a relief," McGonagall breathed out. She was clearly less anxious now. "This is very good then."

"It is?" Hermione asked, her head rushing with pain; she ached all over. It was too hard to think clearly and this was all too much to take in, at any time.

"The curse really only takes effect if you are in love with the person you last kissed; though it's different with everyone cursed. It's a very good sign if you don't hold any feelings for… Viktor Krum, did you say?" She couldn't quite conceal the surprise in her voice. "Now, you are sure you aren't leaving anything out or bending the truth a bit. You must know, I am not trying to scare you but this curse can be very dangerous, fatal even, so it's important you are honest with yourself, and me."

"Is there a cure? Something I need to take? Because I feel just awful," she added not to sound too obvious.

"Curing it is possible… but not definite. There have been known instances where even the worst cases of the curse were cured, but like I said, it is a very tricky thing. It isn't the sort of thing I could whip up an antidote for. Curses of the heart are never easy... Everyone falls in love differently. The longer you've been in love, the deeper you've pined for someone, the worse the curse affects you...but in your case, under the circumstances, the curse should just fade away rather quickly. I wouldn't worry too much. You shouldn't feel anything different aside from the initial aches and pains now. You will have to stay in here, at least over night," she insisted. "And if you start having any sort of feelings for that boy, come see me straight away," McGonagall said, sternly, but she appeared less agitated than when she began, confident in her assessment of the situation. Hermione couldn't look at her, afraid she would give something away. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the continual throb.

"Come along, Harry. Let her get some rest."

"Just to be clear, it's a good thing I don't have those types of feelings for Viktor because, if I did, I might have to be concerned? There would be a need to be worried?" she asked with her eyes still closed from the pain. She tried to keep her voice even.

"The stronger the feelings, the worse it can be, I'm afraid. If the man…or boy, as it would be in your case, didn't feel the same," replied McGonagall, no hint of suspicion. "Try not to think about it. Get some sleep. It'll help."

"Harry," she called out, as he made to leave; McGonagall out of earshot. "Don't tell anyone what happened, even Ron. If he were to ask I mean—not that he—just don't say anything about this whole thing." Harry just nodded an understanding. Hermione wished she could ask more but didn't want to draw any suspicion. Instead, she sat there alone and fretted over what McGonagall had told her. _If what she says is true...I really need to get to the library. Fast._

"Hermione, there you are. I should have known I would find you here," said Harry, a knowing smile on his face. "You're probably just trying to catch up after missing a _whole _day of classes." He waited for a smile to crack, but it was as though Hermione had not even heard him. Her face was deep inside a book, as she sat there in one of the many dark corners of the library.

"Hermione are you listening? Earth to Hermione."

Hermione yanked his arm, causing him to tumble to the ground next to her.

"Hold on a second," she hissed seriously.

It felt like forever before she lifted her head again he thought.

Hermione had gone straight to the library as soon as she was released from the hospital ward. She had to find out more. She had to find out what she was dealing with—up against. She had been in there all afternoon, poring over books and passages. She had a knot in the pit of her stomach after a few of the horror stories she came across, that came from a book labeled, "_True Stories of The Lovers Scorned Kiss Curse_".

"What is that you got there?"

"A book," she replied pointedly.

"Hermione, come on. If you want me to sod off, just say so. I only wanted to see how you were feeling."

"Can you believe a girl once became so mad after falling under the Lovers scorned curse, she actually clawed at her chest, before ripping her own heart out?" A shudder ripped through her; she looked like she might be sick.

"What are you reading that for? Hermione, I know you like to study up on things, but that book is going to give you nightmares. I think you should forget about that love scorched curse thing."

Hermione ignored the fact that Harry couldn't even get the name right and decided to share something with him; it was too big to bear on her own.

_But first, some precautions_, she thought guardedly.

"Harry, I need to tell you something."

"What is it, Hermione?"

"First, you have to swear not to tell, anyone, anything I am about to tell you."

"I promise. What is it?" asked Harry alarmed.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough, because, as soon as I say this, you're going to want to tell just about anyone who will listen. I know you, Harry." She pulled out her wand. "Give me your hand and repeat after me..."

"What was that?" he asked, when she was finished with her spell. She was still gripping his arm, as though she couldn't let go.

"It's a sort of secret keeping spell. No matter how hard you try you won't be able to repeat what I'm about to tell you."

"Blimey, Hermione. What have you got yourself into?"

"Well— er— it's…it's the curse." She threw her hands over her eyes and hid her face from view.

"What? But you said you were over Krum!" shouted Harry, failing to understand.

"Harry. Think for a moment. The last person I kissed...it wasn't Viktor."

"Hermione, I'm not following."

"Think, Harry. Last year, before the Quidditch game..." she hinted, growing a bit frustrated.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Ron!" he gasped, and then became momentarily speechless. "But that was hardly a kiss; just a little kiss on the cheek. It can't really count."

"It wasn't _just_ a kiss, Harry. I-"

"This is...this is…"

"Bad."

Her interjection was an understatement.

"Bad. Very bad...Exactly _how_ bad?" he rambled on, his voice going up at the end, not sure what she meant exactly; An image of Hermione, clawing at her chest, floated into his mind, causing him to shudder.

"I've read some stories. They didn't all end poorly, but mostly...it ends, well, poorly." Her voice was too calm for his liking.

"So, what do we do? How do we break it?"

She released his arm— the secret concealed— and said, "That's just it. There isn't a simple answer. It just says, _only at the weakest breath, may the broken heart be restored, If love proves true, one heart replaced by another, accrued_. Rubbish. What does that even mean?" Her tone was laced with disgust. Harry shrugged, at a loss for what the cryptic verse might mean, but he knew he didn't like the sound of it.

"If…" he hesitated, "…we can't break the curse, what can we expect?"

"Well," she began, her eyes reaching to the ceiling for answers. "The curse has been known to take a person's emotional pain and amplify it significantly. Not only does it wreak havoc on your mind, as though that weren't enough, it causes the pain to be felt physically. It's like it eats away at you. It consumes you in so many ways..." she finished, staring off.

Harry looked at her with great distress. He had to find a way to help her.

"It gets worse."

_Worse_? he groaned internally.

"Because..." she stopped,—a deep blush spreading, as she fidgeted with the book— "My feelings for Ron aren't something I'd just begun to feel last week, or last year for that matter, I've been...I've…"

Harry waited patiently. He could empathize a great deal with what Hermione was feeling.

"You've fancied him for a while," he said, trying to help.

She smiled shyly. "Yes. I love him. And for some time now. But," she sighed, "I never told him and we never so much as shared a proper kiss, and he's with Lavender now, and we don't even look each other's way, much less speak to one another anymore, and he's slipping away bit by bit. And now I have this curse on me, which is, literally, going to cause me to die of a broken heart. And… and..." Hermione was breathless; her eyes tightly closed.

"Hermione, breathe. Hold on, now. Let's think about this...If he knew how you felt. If he knew what was going on—"

"No! Absolutely not. Why do you think I bound your lips shut about this? He can't know. Besides, he's with _her_ now. I would rather die than have him find out." Her voice was indignant and Harry thought he understood now what she meant by the curse amplifying her feelings, but then again, he thought, he never could understand girls very well.

"Hermione," Harry said, his voice reproving, "if you don't say anything, it might not be that farfetched. You could—"

"I'll just steer clear of him. Ignore him and La—Lav— Her. There are plenty of other boys out there; the Slughorn party is coming up. In the meantime, I'll just keep searching for an answer. There must be something in these books that can help."

"We have to go see McGonagall, tell her what's going on. She said—"

"No, Harry."

He looked at her like she was crazy.

"What's the use? There isn't anything she can actually do for me. It's completely out of her hands. I just don't see the point in getting her worked up about it. It doesn't seem fair to worry people and make them feel useless. I shouldn't even have told you. It was just too heavy to carry all on my own."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you needed to tell me," he told her firmly. "I still think you should tell him. Hermione, he cares about you. He's just being stupid. If he knew—"

"I can't tell him, Harry. For so many reasons. I can't put that burden on him. He can never know, especially, if I don't survive this. If he knew he was in any way responsible, he would be horrified.

"Don't talk like that. He would be horrified if he knew you were keeping this from him. If there was any time to take the risk, it would be now. Tell him the truth," he urged.

"I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. The curse has such a hold over me, like I'm meant to suffer in silence, while my heart simply unravels before him. And for all that, I'm sure he won't even take notice as it happens." The words were choking out of her. Large sobs consumed her and she tried to stifle them.

"Why did this have to happen to me, Harry?" she whimpered, softly.

Harry let her cry on his shoulder until the tears refused to shed, anymore. His jumper soaked, through and through, where her face had lain.

chapter 2 will be uploaded shortly. please review thanks


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2_ Timing Is Everything**

Hermione had managed to hold herself together quite well the next couple of days, in her opinion, but it wasn't without taking precautions, and tremendous effort on her part. She threw herself into her class work with even more enthusiasm, making sure to study only in library, not the common room, to avoid seeing Lavender slobber all over Ron. She even did a silencing charm around her bed, so she didn't have to listen to Lavender gush about _her_ Won Won. Still, the simple task of staying away from him was wearing on her; she needed to feel him close to her. Hermione's thoughts turned to him so often, in fact, that she didn't know she was even thinking about him till she starting thinking of him again, in a new thought. Then, she had to wonder how long he had truly been bouncing around in her head for; how many thoughts and reveries did she have involving him, until she was pulled back to reality? It was like waking up in the morning and only remembering part of a dream, when really there had been several dreams already forgotten. Even her bones seemed to ache, wanting to be near him: to hear his voice, to see him smile, to feel his warmth, to...

It was a toss-up between missing him and craving his presence, or seeing him but feeling the sting that came with it. Hermione thought she was holding up well as far as appearances go, but she wasn't sure how long she could last. Harry always checked her over as if expecting the worst, but he rarely said anything to her. But she could tell he was always very aware of her and Ron when they were near each other, and it made her even more self conscious.

It was today's events totally shattered any hope Hermione had that this _little problem_ would go away soon. All she did was laugh in potions class. She couldn't help it, seeing him there, with that silly little handlebar mustache. It was actually quite adorable, she thought to herself as a giggle escaped her; His reaction was anything but. Instantly, she felt her heart tighten and her knees weaken. The tone of his voice, the way he mimicked her so cruelly, and Lavender's joyful laughter in the background, had her eyes swimming with tears before she even reached the door. In the bathroom, she felt as though she couldn't breathe. Just like the tears drowning her eyes, she felt the rest of her drowning as well. It took her forever to get a hold of herself. She didn't want to look distraught in front of anyone and only emerged from the bathroom when she knew no one would be the wiser. Only Harry would recall her running out ahead of everyone.

After that, her heart seemed to break a little more each day. She felt angry and scared, and above all else, hurt. _Why did he choose her? Why did he want Lavender? What did she have that I didn't? _she wondered to herself on a constant repetition. She understood that it wasn't the same heartache she felt for Ron in the past. It ran much deeper and she had to constantly remind herself what was real and what was just in her head. If she wasn't such a logical person, she might not have been able to hold on so well. Though, it happened more than once, where Harry had to wrestle a sharp object out of her hand, when she got a funny look on her face, witnessing a nauseating moment between Ron and Lavender.

"I wish I was dead," came her bemoaning wail, one recent evening, her hand frantically reaching for her butter knife, as Lavender spoon-fed Ron her ice cream.

"Hermione—I'm sure you did great on the assignment." Harry reacted quickly with the lie, smiling uneasily. "She thinks she did miserable in potions today. She always worries and then gets the highest marks," he announced to the surrounding students at the table, while suddenly needing to butter his biscuit, using Hermione's butter knife. Hermione let go of it without putting up much of a struggle, and instead pouted into her soup. She knew she would never actually be able to go through with killing herself, because she wasn't willing to give up the chance to be near him, even if it made her miserable when he was around; no Ron was worse than death. She explained this to Harry after he brought up the butter knife incident, though that wasn't the last of her outbursts; once he had to pull her away from an open tower window when she threatened to jump out.

It was almost comical, Harry realized, the way she carried on like that, over the most absurd things. He sometimes had a hard time taking her seriously, the ridiculous way she acted; it wasn't like Hermione at all. He would have been more disturbed, except he noticed her impulsive actions were extremely lackadaisical, in that even as she said she was going to kill herself, he knew she was simply being overly-dramatic and had no intention of actually doing anything. He had more trouble trying to come up with ways to cover up her bizarre behavior, like when she took a swing at a fourth year who said Ron wouldn't be able to pull off the next Quidditch match. "Wrackspurts", he told him unconvincingly, waving away imaginary creatures with his hand. "They're all over the grounds this time of year." He then grabbed Hermione firmly by the arm and led her away before she could do anymore damage.

Though she had warned him that she would be irrational, especially in the beginning stages of the curse, he had not counted on the degree, and he eventually enlisted Luna to help watch her when he wasn't around. He knew, Luna being Luna, she wouldn't find his request odd or ask a lot of questions and that was important because there wasn't anything he could say. "Is it a Heliopath?" she asked assumingly, when he loosely explained to her how Hermione was acting oddly. Harry just nodded his head in agreement to make it easier. He had no idea what a Heliopath was, but was glad he had a friend like Luna around.

Hermione knew, deep down, even at her worst, she was being totally absurd, but she couldn't stop the thoughts from entering her mind. She just did her best to resist them and tried to act normal. She thought that because she had done such extensive research and was prepared for what to expect, she was able to avoid the demise that many victims faced, but it was too early to tell. She was determined to take an offensive approach, knowing what she knew, to stop the curse in its tracks. The idea of moving on from Ron was impossible, Hermione had come to terms with that, and instead devised a plan to get his attention. She was going to make Ron jealous. She would make him notice her, and see what he was missing out on by not ditching Lavender. He belonged to her; she was certain.

This was why she found herself, alone in the girls' dormitory, carefully studying herself over, as she got ready for Slughorn's Christmas party, where she would be attending with Cormac McLaggen. It was the last night before break, two weeks without seeing Ron's face, and her last chance to get his attention. She figured if anyone could rile Ron up, and make him take notice, it would be the boy who almost took his seeker position. She wanted to make a big impression and was pleased with Ron's reaction at dinner, earlier that week, when he first heard the news straight from her lips. He had detached himself from Lavender instantly upon hearing the words spoken. Clearly, he had been listening to her conversation the whole time she realized with hope. The look he shot her was unmistakably one of jealousy she believed, but it could have just been simple outrage. She was determined to get a reaction out of him tonight and was very meticulous about her look. She wanted his eyes to open wide the minute he saw her, too awestruck to even speak, but the longer she waited to come down, the less sure she was of getting this reaction. She stared at her reflection so long that she could hardly recognize her face as her own. She shut her eyes and counted to one hundred, and then looked herself over once more.

She had selected her dress carefully. It was dark crimson with a high sash. The bottom was made of tulle, like a ballet tutu. It went down to her knees and poofed out, in a playful kind of way, and held snug against her chest. The top part, made of satin, let Hermione show off like she never quite had before. Her hair was in a messy updo, random curls hanging down. She looked quite stunning, but also slightly haunting. She was already skinnier, her expression too grave for the occasion. Her face looked like it held some kind of sad ancient grief. She smiled, trying to make it reach her eyes.

As she walked down the stairs to the common room, she took each step carefully, drawing out the moment. Immediately, her eyes locked on Ron's. He was staring at her from behind Lavender's head, while Lavender was busy trying to eat his lips off him. He didn't seem to be aware as Lavender began to kiss along his neck, his focus was elsewhere. She noticed, triumphantly, that his eyes looked both pained and hungry as he watched her enter.

"Hermione! You look amazing," Ginny exclaimed, rushing over to meet her.

"Thank you, Ginny..." She blushed—feeling a bit self conscious— leaving the last step behind. "…so do you."

Lavender turned to see what everyone was gasping at and frowned when her eyes landed on Hermione.

"Cormac is going to flip when he sees you," Lavender told her enthusiastically, turning to her. Hermione had to force herself not to roll her eyes at how obvious Lavender was being. She noticed how Ron's eyes became darker with the mention of Cormac.

"You think he'll like it?" she asked innocently, playing the part, then dared a glance over at Ron and locked eyes with him.

"He won't be able to keep his hands off of you," said Lavender teasingly, while at the same time tightening her grip on Ron, whose jaw was clenched tightly.

"That's the idea," Hermione replied shamelessly, not removing her eyes from Ron's. His hands were now balled up into tense fists, his face reddening.

"Ron, can I talk to you?" Harry asked interrupting, from the other side of the room. He both needed Ron's help and wanted to put a stop to their behavior before things got out of hand. Ron jumped up at the chance. He slowly slid past Hermione, his irritated glower inches from her face. There was intense electricity pulsing between them, that he still felt even after he met Harry by the door.

"I need to ask you a favor tonight. I was hoping you would watch Malfoy on the map. Make sure he isn't up to anything."

"Sure," he replied quickly, but Harry could tell Ron was in a sulky mood, being that he couldn't go to the party and that Hermione was now going with McLaggen, especially looking like that.

"Thanks. I..." But Ron was hardly paying attention as he continued. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

_Had she ever looked so lovely; so tempting_? _Is she trying to drive me crazy_? he wondered. His preoccupation was cut short when he saw Cormac McLaggen come down from the boys' dormitory, with a smug, repugnant look on his face. Cormac looked Hermione over like she was on the menu. Ron tasted blood in his mouth, from biting down on his tongue. He wanted to yell and scream at them to stop; to plead with her not to do this. He was ready to tell Lavender to shove off that instant, if it meant Hermione would be in his arms the next second, but he didn't do any of these things. She would just laugh at him, he thought, and kept quiet. McLaggen put his arm around Hermione and walked her to the portrait hole. They made their way toward Ron and he cringed at the way Hermione deliberately focused all her attention on Cormac.

"Allow me," said Ron, in his most despising tone. He was like a child, fighting for attention, good or bad. He opened the portrait door for them and made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as though waving them out. "Have a good time you two," he told them in a sarcastic tone, adding a mocking salute for good measure. Just before McLaggen disappeared entirely, Ron tugged on the back of his collar, holding him back. "Watch that one with the wand, McLaggen. One false move and I hate to see what she does to you," he leaned in and warned brashly.

"I'm not worried. In my experience they don't put up a fight for long," he whispered low, so that Hermione couldn't hear him; his smile was smarmy and his eyes looked depraved. Harry had to hold Ron back from attacking him.

"I'll watch her at the party, don't worry. You keep a look out for Malfoy and I'll keep an eye on her."

"Deal," Ron replied roughly, staring at the closed portrait door that Hermione had already disappeared behind.

It was as though all the air was escaping her lungs, but she couldn't get any to go back in. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on calming thoughts, but all she could picture was Ron chastising her; all because Cormac's lips attacked hers. At first it wasn't so bad. It was almost kind of nice because when she closed her eyes and kissed him back, she could pretend she was kissing someone else. But the kiss didn't feel right. It felt artificial, like kissing someone in a dream. And then the pain kicked in. She had made the mistake of opening her eyes as Cormac went in again. It was all wrong; the illusion was broken and it was like knives cutting into her. She had to get away, but not back to the common room because Ron would see her, and he would know. She wanted him to think the worst. She wanted him to know what true regret felt like. So, instead, she ran. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. She wasn't sure what part of the school she was in, but it was very dark and eerily quiet. She came to a dead end and stopped, panting heavily. She leaned against the cool stone wall, embracing it with her palms, then, letting gravity do its work, she let herself slump down to the floor. It was hard to breathe after running so hard (and in heels), and she found after a few minutes her breathing wasn't returning to normal. In fact, it appeared to be getting harder to breathe. In her mind a cruel and spiteful Ron made terrible accusation about her and mocked her incessantly. She saw images of Ron and Lavender conoodling together. She imagined herself and Ron getting in another row and him telling her how little she compared to the love of his life, Lavender. She wanted to scream. _This can't last forever, can it? This can't get any worse_. But she already knew it could and that it was going to.

It was with a start that Hermione woke up. It was still very dark and she had no idea what time it was, though she knew it was late. She was still in that same far off corner of the castle she had run off to. Her neck hurt from the way she fell asleep, or passed out from lack of oxygen. She took off her shoes and began to run again, back to the common room. It was incredibly dark along the way, especially in certain places, and as she made her way down a flight of stairs she tripped over something she hadn't seen. She fell awkwardly, tumbling head first and rolling over a couple times. It was a miracle she didn't break her neck. "Oww," she moaned out loud, to no one but herself, her cheek kissing concrete. She pushed herself off the ground and examined the damage. Her neck had hit a step pretty hard and was throbbing. She also managed to snap one of her straps from her dress. "Damn," she sighed, sure she looked a mess. It was a good thing no one would see her. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget that night ever happened. It was dead quiet in the common room, everyone had long gone to bed. Even still, she began her ascension up the stairs very carefully, stepping softly, as though she was afraid of being caught out so late. But, by the second step she tripped again, and her shoes flew out of her hand. The clunking sound was startling in the stillness of the room.

"Just getting in?" A snide voice called out from behind her. Hermione froze and then slowly turned around. Ron was now sitting up on the sofa near the fireplace. Hermione looked at him anxiously, but also confused. She hadn't seen him when she first came in.

"What are you doing, waiting up for me? Spying?" she asked in an acerbic tone. Ron looked like she accused him of punching kittens.

"That's a laugh. Why would I do something like that? Harry asked me to watch out for Malfoy and I must have dozed off," he lied. The truth was he had been sitting there all night, waiting for her to come through the door.

"That's a delightful story Ronald, but if you don't mind, I have better things to do that waste my time listening to you yammer on."

"Better things to do, like McLaggen?" He knew it was a low blow, but at the same time he needed an answer. He looked at her callously, noticing the mark on her neck, the broken strap, and the late hour she was getting in at, putting two and two together in his mind. She suddenly had a flashback to her dream. She swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. As she stood there trying to think of something to say, her mind landed on a very powerful thought that caused her to fill up with a terrible fever.

_Where does he get off, being upset?_ _If it wasn't for Ronald Weasley, I wouldn't have this curse on me in the first place. If he never got with Lavender, I wouldn't have been out there that day, alone. If he hadn't been throwing his relationship in my face, I wouldn't have been running away from them. If he had just loved me back...it's his fault. I hate Ronald Weasley._

"What's it to you, what me and Cormac do?" she asked now, overcoming her nerves and replacing them with anger. His eyes looked like they might fall out of his skull as she said it. He was standing up now facing her, a scowl etched on his face.

"Couldn't care less," he replied, gritting his teeth. She wasn't denying it.

"There's a surprise, Ron Weasley, not caring," she replied, feigning shock.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked, taking a step closer to her. She also moved toward him, descending the stairs, her arms flaying now as she spoke.

"It means you, Ronald Weasley, are a complete arse."

"Oh. I'm the arse! I'm not the one who's been walking around here lately like some sort of ice queen. But it looks like Cormac thawed you out," he exclaimed, gesturing to her appearance. "I shouldn't be surprised, though, I knew you and Krum weren't discussing the deep inner-workings of the human mind."

"You haven't a clue to what you're talking about. And I am not the one who goes around snogging some tart, so the whole school can see." They were yelling now, only a couple feet apart.

"No, apparently you prefer to do your snogging in private...So, where is McLaggen? Did I just miss him?"

"I have no idea. I left him at the party ages ago. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged away by Snape," she admitted, though her voice was still furious. She didn't know why she was being so honest with him.

"What's that now?" he asked confused. His face instantly began to soften in his confusion.

"I wasn't off snogging Cormac. I fell asleep..." She couldn't look at him. She was trying to fight the rising anger.

Ron's expression was now full of concern. "What happened to you, then?"

"Nothing. I fell. It was dark. There was something on the stairs," she mumbled.

"Are you alright?" Hermione just nodded her head.

"So, you weren't with McLaggen?" Hermione thought his voice sounded hopeful, but she wasn't sure why or how she should respond to his question. He seemed happy that she hadn't been off with Cormac, but what did that mean, she wondered, her mind traveling to the worst conclusion. He was probably thrilled because it meant no one wanted her; he won. She lost. He had Lavender and she was alone. He wanted to gloat, she thought irrationally. Or, maybe he was mad because she had been fraternizing with the enemy again and was now happy because it didn't work out.

"I lost him when he went with Snape. I left to find him, but obviously I didn't. I'm not worried though, I'll get to say goodbye to him before we leave tomorrow," she lied.

"Well then, crisis averted," he responded just as coolly as she had.

"Yep."

They stood there for a long moment, not saying anything and then Ron turned to leave, hesitantly. "You forgot this." Hermione called to him, needing any excuse to keep him there with her. She held out his potions book he left on the table, and, as she did so, a piece of parchment fell to the floor. They both bent down to pick it up, but she got to it first.

_Lavender + Ron forever_

_Lavender loves Ron…._

Hermione stared at the girlish scribbling, her blood boiling. She began to feel faint and her hand was shaking.

"Don't forget this," she told him icily, but her voice was trembling. He looked guilty as he scanned it over. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"It must be devastating, to know you'll be so far from her for the entire break." Her voice was not welcoming. "How will you get on without her? Perhaps she could come for a visit. You can show her off to your family. Introduce her..."

"Are you visiting anyone? I heard that maybe ...that Krum had invited you..."

"Oh yes…" replied Hermione at once, her voice perking up, "…he was very persistent about getting me to come see him." Her mouth twisted into a devious smile. "I still haven't decided yet. I know my parents would like me home, but I bet it looks beautiful there with the snow right now."

"What about Cormac?"

"Cormac isn't going anywhere," she replied, not really sure, herself, where that answer had come from. All she knew was she wanted to hurt Ron; hurt him like he was hurting her.

"You just enjoy stringing them along, don't you? You like the attention, but don't care how they feel, is that it?" he asked, his temper flaring again. He wasn't really talking about Krum or McLaggen.

"You're judging me? You're only with Lavender because she goes around worshiping the ground you walk on; Clinging herself to you like a squid. It's pathetic. How can you even call that a relationship, when all you do is snog each other's brains out?"

"Jealous, Hermione?"

"Oh, please. Don't make me laugh."

"Lavender is a lovely girl. Why is it so unbelievable for you to image that someone could think I'm great? Just because you can't see it. Maybe I'm not Harry or Vicky, but I'm not completely worthless."

"I never said you were worthless. I don't think that."

"I'm done worrying what you think. You can think whatever you want as long as you think it away from me."

"Because you have Lavender now. She's your whole world?" she asked sarcastically.

"At least she doesn't prefer me to be miserable. She actually considers my happiness."

"Does she consider anything else in that tiny brain of hers?"

"We can't all be geniuses like you. And some of us try to have a little thing called fun. I don't know who in their right mind would waste their time on you—"

"Fun?" she asked, cutting off his ruthless jab. "All you two do is stick your tongues down each other's throats."

"You know, for a girl who claims to not be jealous, you sure like to talk about me kissing a lot."

"I was hoping you'd get the hint that it sickens me and maybe refrain from doing it in public."

"I don't know, Hermione, you could pick up some helpful tips watching us, and you know, use them on your new boyfriend. Help keep this one around a bit."

"Ha. Now, you're truly trying to make me laugh. Cormac doesn't need any tips. He does quite well on his own."

"Better than Vicky, even?" he stuttered, bothered by the fact that she didn't correct him when he said _boyfriend_.

"Viktor was good, but Cormac has really perfected the art." Hermione turned away so that she was perpendicular to Ron. His jaw was set as he listened to her merciless retort. She could feel his breathe on her neck. Just then, as though on cue, Cormac walked straight into the common room, his dazed look turning into one of shock, upon seeing them there. The two jumped apart, instantly. Ron eyed McLaggen, and then Hermione for a very tense moment, before turning away, and without uttering a single syllable to either, stalked off to the boys' dormitory. When he was gone Hermione turned sharply to Cormac, who still looked confused and asked, "Where are you coming from at this time of the night?"

He didn't understand why she was so furious with him, but replied, "Snape made me clean out some old storage closet as punishment for accidently ruining his shoes... Anyways, I got locked inside. Thought I'd be in there all night. If Filch hadn't heard me..." He dropped his thought and asked suspiciously, "What were you two talking about, anyways?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," she told him in a tired voice. She walked up to the girl's dormitory too weak to even cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three _ Times Up**

**Two weeks later**

"Maybe you should stay home for a while longer. I'll speak to your headmistress about it. I don't know if you're healthy enough to be around all those other students," said Mrs. Granger, fretting over her daughter, as she helped unloaded her trunk.

"No," replied Hermione alarmed, trying not to shout. "I feel much better, honest. It was just a bad flu bug. I really think being back will do me some good. They can probably treat it better than any over the counter remedy we've tried," she added to sooth her mother's worry.

Her mother made a few more fussing comments before saying goodbye to her daughter, then Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched their daughter disappear at Platform 9 ¾. Hermione dragged her trunk towards the familiar train, her energy dragging along with it. It had been a very long Christmas break. She had hoped being away would help the situation, but it had the opposite effect. It was too hard being away from Ron like that and she was glad to be back. Catching a glimpse of her reflection, during her Prefect duties, she knew Harry would have something to say. The train ride was surprisingly quick and once she was settled in at school, she decided to go find Harry, who she hadn't seen yet. She found him with Ginny and Ron, and watched them from afar for a minute, taking in how perfect Ron looked in his new holiday jumper. Just watching him from a distance, she felt herself being revived, second by second, and felt herself being pulled over to him. She tried to act casual and indifferent as she stood so close to him, but it was difficult. Ginny asked her how her break was, while Harry eyed her suspiciously, like she knew he would.

"It was lovely, nice to be home for a bit, though I got a terrible touch of the flu. How was yours?" she asked Ginny, but it was Ron who replied for them, filling her in on another typical holiday at the Burrow. Hermione tried to ignore him, and conceal the pang of regret she felt that she hadn't been able to be there with them. She didn't know how much she could handle. She wanted Ron back in her life, but didn't know if she was strong enough. She thought she might be able to put up with Lavender if it meant at least having Ron Back as a friend. She decided to take it slow. She snapped back to the present in time to hear Ginny say she was off to find Dean. Seconds later, as though fate was testing her limits, it was Harry who left, after receiving a note to meet Dumbledore, which left Hermione completely alone with Ron. _So much for taking it slow_.

"Hermione, listen, I'm sorry about that night, the things I said, I didn't mean any of it. And I know you weren't with McLaggen. Don't be mad. I can't take you being mad at me, anymore. Please, 'Mione. I miss you…" He looked down after he finished and waited for her reaction.

"You punched him, didn't you?" she asked, remembering how Cormac looked the next morning, with a busted lip and black eye. Ron smiled sheepishly.

"Would you believe me if I told you he deserved it?" he asked, but Hermione was already hugging him. Not just hugging him, but pressing herself to him as tightly as her arms would allow. He held her back just as securely; their bodies as close as possible. It was as though a great weight was being lifted off of her. She felt alive again; complete. She never wanted to let go, for the sensation was so perfect. She soaked in his warmth, breathed in his scent, and delighted in pounding of his heart against her ear.

"Ron! Where's my Won Won?" The shrieking voice of Lavender Brown invaded the room and Ron felt Hermione tense in his arms. She froze, like the piercing sound of Lavender's voice was ice water being thrown upon her. All the blissful feelings she had just felt were sucked out of her in one instant.

"I think she means you." She loosened her hold.

"Hermione, wait. You don't have to leave."

"No. You're wrong. This was a mistake. I don't belong here." She paused, and it looked like she was deliberating something, and then she added, "Just stay away from me. Stay out of my life."

Hermione felt like a Dementor was stalking her, following her about and draining her of any happiness. When Harry found her, she was curled up in an empty classroom, shivering.

"Bloody hell, Hermione."

"How did you find me?" she asked softly, ignoring his exclamation.

"I used the Marauder's Map. I was worried. I'm sorry, I got sidetracked with Dumbledore. I meant to talk to you right away. You look awful. This can't go on much longer. We need to tell someone."

"Harry, I'm fine. I just had the flu."

"Bollocks. Is that why you're hiding out in an empty room, looking like death?"

"Fine. It isn't the flu. I feel like I might shatter into pieces at any second. Are you happy?"

"This is mad. We have to tell McGonagall. Let me help you."

"If you want to help me, you can meet me in the library after class tomorrow and see if there is something I missed in those books; some common thread in the stories that we can use."

"Harry, are you in here?" Ron shouted carelessly through the library, getting plenty of shushes from angry studiers, not pleased with the disruption.

"Harry?" he called again. "Oh, there you are—" he finished abruptly, focusing on the scene in front of him. Harry's head was bent forward, and Hermione was facing away. Harry had his hand clasped over Hermione's and they were talking low.

"What's going on here?" asked Ron agitated. Harry released Hermione's hand and looked up at him innocently.

"What's up?"

"We have practice, 'member? Or are you too busy in here to make it?""Oi, Quidditch. I completely lost track of time."

"It's okay. We still got twenty minutes. What are you two up to?"

"None of your business, Ronald," Hermione replied hotly, not able to turn in his direction.

"Fine then, forget it. Coming, Harry?"

"Er—Yeah—be right there…."

"Is there something going on with you two? Because if there is, you don't have to keep it a secret from your best friend," said Ron forcefully, as he and Harry walked to practice.

"It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it like?"

"I—er—can't really say."

"Can't or won't?"

"It's sort of both, mate. I wish I could, but it isn't that simple."

"Sure."

"Why don't you just ask her yourself, if you're so concerned? When was the last time you spoke to her? When was the last time you took a good look at her? Stop being a coward and talk to her," Harry replied, growing impatient with Ron's brooding temperament.

"I tried to talk to her when we got back from break, but she got upset when Lavender showed up," he confessed.

"That was three weeks ago! What are you still doing messing around with Lavender anyways; you clearly don't want to be with her. "

"It's not that easy. You've never had to ditch someone before. I keep hoping she'll get the hint, but—"

"Either man up and chuck her or deal with it, but I still think you ought to speak to Hermione." There was something in Harry's tone that made Ron nervous. He could hardly concentrate at practice, his thoughts revolving around what Harry had said. He got hit with two bludgers and let about a dozen in the goal, causing his teammates to wonder what was wrong with him.

Ron wasn't able to talk to Hermione until breakfast because she had already gone to bed when he got back from practice. He thought of asking Ginny if she would go wake her up and ask her to meet him, but felt too ridiculous to go through with it. He was sure she wouldn't come down if he did ask. No, he would have to ambush her and make her talk to him he decided.

He was shocked as he stood before her in the great hall, taking in her drawn, tired face. She looked so fragile, sitting there, absentmindedly stirring her breakfast. A table full of students, room full of people and she seemed so isolated and alone sitting there. His face drew into a frown as he looked her over; she didn't notice him there. She didn't seem to notice anyone for that matter or that she was even in the Great Hall. He sat down across from her, thinking of how to start, but after a long silent moment, the words not coming to him, and being too self conscious with the roomful of eyes, he decided it would be better to wait until he could get her alone. As he sat there, unable to eat,—which for Ron already spoke volumes— he slowly scanned over every inch of her face. Suddenly, her eyes shot up and caught his stare. They only locked eyes for a second, then appearing offended, Hermione vanished from her seat, leaving Ron gaping after her. Hermione didn't appear alarmed, a few minutes later, when she turned to see Ron using a Colloportus charm to lock the door behind them, but rather stared at him, face hardened, waiting for him to say something.

"Hermione, we need to talk," he told her sternly, but she didn't say anything in return. "I want to know what's up with you. What's this secret that you can tell Harry, but not me?"

"What has Harry been telling you?"

"Nothing. That's why I'm asking you." He tried not to sound upset, but he was getting frustrated with her remoteness.

"He said nothing because there is nothing going on."

"Look at yourself, 'Mione…" he told her, and then impulsively placed his hand on her face to gently rub one of the circles under her eye with his thumb, "…you look—"

"Oh, so you don't speak to me in weeks and now you barge in here to tell me I look like hell? Well you can just go there! Get out of my way," she ordered, her temper flaring. Ron grabbed a hold of her arm to stop her.

"You told me to stay away. You told me to stay out of your life. _You_ stopped talking to me. I was just trying to do what you asked. I hoped you would come around, eventually, but, if it's possible, you seem even more upset with me than before, and I don't even know what I've done to make you so angry."

"You didn't do anything, Ron. You just…never mind. Honestly, I wish I had never met you Ronald Weasley. You're without a doubt the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Hermione lay in bed for the next three days, even skipping her Friday classes and sleeping through the weekend. She felt too weak to get up and the morbid thoughts plagued her mind weren't helping. She felt such intense pain that she would gladly have taken death to forget it all. Harry informed Madam Pomfrey that Hermione was 'sick'. She wanted Hermione to come to the hospital ward, but Hermione refused to get out of bed, so she brought her a potion to help her sleep and told her if she wasn't feeling better come Monday morning, she would have to be moved. Harry was nervous and wished McGonagall hadn't been gone for the weekend. It was very bad timing in his esteem. He told Hermione he was going straight to McGonagall when she returned. Monday came and Hermione was not showing signs of improvement, so Madam Pomfrey had her moved to the hospital ward. If she didn't show signs of improvement soon she would have to go to St. Mungo's. Harry wished he could tell Madam Pomfrey exactly what was wrong with Hermione, but his lips were still frustratingly sealed. That day, Harry allowed himself to get sidetracked with Dumbledore's task and missed his chance to speak to McGonagall about Hermione, but thought he had waited that long to tell her that one more night wouldn't matter much. If Hermione was right, there wasn't anything McGonagall could do for her, anyways. He returned to the boys' dormitory that night feeling extremely exhausted. Between Hermione's illness, Malfoy's suspicious activity, Dumbledore's request with Slughorn, and even Ron's birthday the next day, he had reached his limits. His bed had never felt so fantastic, he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.

When Harry awoke, the room was cleared, aside from Ron— who was sitting on his bed, collecting up his presents that must have arrived early that morning. Harry wished him a happy birthday, sliding off the bed, with his checklist of things to do that day running through his head. He was trying to decide the best tactic to approach Slughorn that morning when something Ron was muttering about caught his attention. He was amused at first as Ron sputtered on about his deep passion for Romilda Vane, but after getting hit with a shoe for offending Ron's love, he decided this would be the reason he needed to see Slughorn that day and without delay. Dumbledore's request would have to wait till Ron was sorted out.

Hermione saw Ron being carried into the hospital ward and shot out of bed like she was on fire. He was unconscious and very pale, even for him. Her heart fell to the floor as she made her way to his side. She couldn't help thinking of the horrible things she had told him in the bathroom. She hadn't meant them at all, especially about him being the worst thing that ever happened to her. No, this moment here, that was the worst thing, she thought, panicking.

"What happened to him? Is he alright? Ron! Ron! Answer me! Ron!" She was near hysterics. It took three people to hold her down and get her back into bed, but she kept yelling out for him, and begging for answers. She calmed down more when Harry wheeled her bed over next to Ron's, so she could be near him. She tried to stay quiet as Harry told her about the love potion, and the Firewhiskey in Slughorn's room, and how Harry had just barely managed to save his life with that Bezoar. She anxiously waited for Ron to open his eyes, but he kept so still. After everyone else left for the night, Hermione lay there, holding his hand in hers, never taking her eyes off him for once second.

"Er…my…knee," Ron Choked out, half asleep. Everyone immediately shut up and stared at him. It was the first thing he had said since he was poisoned the night before and they all waited, hopeful to hear more, but after a few indistinguishable mumblings, Ron fell back asleep. Hermione never left Ron's side. Madam Pomfrey was just relived she seemed to be doing better and wouldn't need to be taken to St. Mungo's. Even still, she stayed in the hospital ward as Ron's health improved. Ron was thankful Hermione was not only talking to him again, but also that she was being so attentive and concerned about him. Even if she didn't say it, he knew that she forgave him for treating her the way he did, even the parts he didn't understand.

Once Ron began sitting up and talking, Harry knew it was time he informed McGonagall about Hermione. Though he was surprised no one else noticed there was something very wrong going on with her, but Ron's scare had been given a lot of attention the last couple days, and Hermione's behavior and appearance slipped under the radar. In a strange way she appeared better than before, when she was lying ill in her own hospital bed. Ron's near death experience had the effect of lighting an overprotective panic filled fire under Hermione's metaphorical ass. He hated to think what would have happened to Hermione if Ron hadn't gotten better; to lose both his best friends in one week would have been unthinkable.


	4. Chapter 4 A Time To Tell

**Chapter Four_A Time to Tell**

She knew as soon she walked into McGonagall's office that the gig was up. She shot a dirty look at Harry, who wore a guilty expression across his face. McGonagall cut right to the chase, telling her that Harry had brought it to her attention that she was not truthful about the curse that hit her, months ago now. Hermione sat quietly, listening to her, both, apologize for not realizing the truth, and reprimanding her for not coming to her immediately. When she finished she asked Hermione to tell her everything that happened since that day. Hermione felt betrayed and ambushed, and at first she refused to talk, but then began by asking if Harry would leave this time while they talked.

"You haven't been honest with what's been going on," said McGonagall, trying to get her to open up, after Harry closed the door behind him.

"All right—Let's say that's true, that I'm so mad with love I feel like I might split apart at the seams any second, what difference does it make? Could we fix it?"

"There are some things we can try." Hermione waited for her to continue, giving her an unfathomable look, as she started again. "We might have to do a memory charm. If you forget this boy, you should forget your feelings, too."

"Absolutely not! There is no way! I won't let you. There must be something else, anything else. I'll ignore him, forgive him, accept the way things are, just don't wipe my memory," Hermione begged.

"Calm down. There is something else we can try first, I think it could work, or at the very least buy us some time, but I'll have to do what's necessary to put a stop to this. Hermione, were you still in love with Viktor when you got hit by the curse, or did the feelings return only after?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

"What?" Hermione asked confused.

"I'm just trying to get a better understanding of it." Hermione listened, realizing McGonagall wasn't aware that she was really in love with Ron.

"Yes. I was still in love at the time."

McGonagall shook her head, understanding and said, "I want you to go back to the hospital ward and get some rest. I'll have Madam Pomfrey give you something."

While Hermione was talking with McGonagall, Harry returned to check on Ron.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron.

"You look a lot better," Harry told him, moving over to where Ron and Ginny were sitting.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. I've got the okay to get out of here. We were just waiting for you to head back."

"That's excellent," said Harry relieved.

"Isn't Hermione with you?" Ron asked hopefully, glancing behind Harry expectantly.

"No, she had to talk to McGonagall about something. I'm sure we'll see her upstairs," he lied, unsure what to say.

"Did she really stay by me the whole time I was in here?" he asked low in Harry's ear, as they walked out. Apparently Ginny had filled Ron in on what he missed while he was out of it.

"She was really worried about you. We all were."

"Ginny said she…" Ron blushed and couldn't continue his thought.

As soon as Ron got back to the common room he headed straight to find Lavender. He had done a lot of thinking while he was in bed and needed to put things right, no matter how hard it might be to do. He took her away from the group, knowing things would get messy. She took it fairly well, crying a bit and only slapping him twice. He told her he was sorry and that she was a great girl; pretty standard breakup etiquette.

"I knew something was wrong when you wouldn't let me in to see you," she told him.

"Near death experiences can change you I 'spose. I'm sorry if I hurt you…"

The truth was Ron couldn't wait to get away from her and talk to Hermione. There was so much he had been holding back that he needed to tell her. He waited a while before heading back, letting Lavender go ahead of him and giving her time to settle down. It also gave him some time to work up his nerves. When he arrived back he saw Ginny and Harry, but not Hermione, which disappointed him greatly.

"She's still down in the hospital," they informed him when he asked. Immediately he became concerned.

"Why is _she_ down there? Is she sick or something? She didn't drink the Firewhiskey, did she?"

"Er—I think she's just exhausted, she didn't sleep much the last couple days," Harry said awkwardly, not sure what to tell him. In a weird way the thought was comforting to Ron, because it showed she really did care about him. After a few hours Ron couldn't stand it anymore; he had to see her that night, so very carefully, he sneaked out.

"Hermione," Ron whispered, brushing back her hair. She didn't stir, so he called her name out again, and this time she reacted slightly by turning her face toward him and letting out a soft sigh.

"Ron?" she said so softly, barely any sound came out. "Am I asleep?"

"No, it's me. I had to see if you were all right? I got worried when you didn't come back. What are you doing in here?"

"I'm sick." Her eyes fluttered and then closed again. Ron placed his hand over hers.

"What's the matter? Is this the secret you weren't telling me? Are you hurt?" he asked, clearly anxious.

"…I miss you, too," she breathed out dreamily, after a short pause, a reply referring to his previous statement he admitted to her when he locked them together in the girl's lavatory.

"You're not supposed to be in here," said Madam Pomfrey, catching Ron by Hermione's bedside.

"Sorry. I just had to ask her something. I'm leaving," he told her nonchalantly and left before she had time to decide to get him in trouble.

The next day Ron grilled Harry about why Hermione was in the hospital, but Harry really couldn't say much. He tried to skip class to see her, but he wasn't allowed in. By the end of the day he had had enough and ordered Harry to fill him in. Harry tried his best but there wasn't much he was able to get out.

"Something happened to Hermione a few months ago and it's making her sick."

"What happened? What's causing it?"

"Well…er…it's this curse—"

"Curse!" Ron interjected.

"— called…" he continued on, trying to say the name but nothing came out. "It makes her…"

"What? What?"

"Ugh, I can't tell you!" replied Harry, frustrated. "She's sort of, well, love-sick. I…don't know how else to explain…You have to find a way to talk to Hermione. She wants to be your — friend. Your friend. Your —" Harry found he couldn't say the word _girl_friend and cursed the damn curse under his breath.

The next day, during Ron's free hour, he went to find Hermione and finally find out what was going on; not knowing was killing him and he would bust the hospital door down if he had to. He didn't understand what Harry meant, but wished he wasn't so in the dark. He realized if he hadn't been on nonspeaking terms with Hermione for so long, he would have a clue as to what was going on with her. He was impatient to see her and almost ran there. He expected her to still be in bed, so he was surprised to meet her along the way.

"Hermione! Are you…okay?" he asked trying to control himself, but rushed toward her just the same.

"Yes, I'm okay." She bit her lip nervously. She wanted him to grab her and hold her in his arms, but he stopped just short of her and stared, leaving her to feel somewhat incomplete.

"Are you out of the hospital, then? Are you feeling better?"

"I'm on my way to McGonagall's office," she told him, pointing. "I was told I needed to go see her."

"Hermione, I was so worried." He had her in his arms before he realized what he was doing. Passages from the book his brothers gave him for his birthday about charming witches, — he happened to skim through the night before, unable to sleep— entered his mind as he reached for the right thing to say. Though he didn't think there was a chapter on this.

"You're one to talk," she laughed, "do we need someone to test your drinks from now on?" She hugged him back tightly, burying her face in his chest. She could feel his lips in her hair and her heart fluttered.

"I had to find some way to get your attention," he teased.

Another voice caught both their attentions, saying, "Hermione, there you are. I was waiting." The deep, low voice spoken was familiar to them both.

"Viktor?" said Hermione in shock, loosening her hold, but not letting go of Ron. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Headmistress sent for me. She told me everything. I came right away. I had no idea you felt that way."

"Viktor— I— can you give us a minute?"

Ron let go of her abruptly and paced around a couple times.

"I have no idea why he's here," she told him flustered, while trying to get him to look at her.

"You don't have to pretend anymore. Even I can put it together. Harry said something about a curse and love sickness, and now Viktor shows up out of the blue." He began to walk away from her. "And to think I broke up with Lavender because I thought…" He started, turning to her once more.

"You, what? Because of me?"

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? It just wasn't working out between us. I hope you have better luck with Vicky."

"Ron, please. Don't be like this. Let me explain. There was this insane couple and this woman fired a love curse to punish her husband for cheating, but it missed and hit me. Viktor is here because McGonagall must have told him he was responsible for the curse causing my heartache, but..." She reached for him to make him stay.

Ron shook her off, interrupting her speech. His eyes were so cold and unreachable. "I don't think you should leave Vicky all alone. He came such a long way to see his dearest love."

Hermione began to feel very faint; everything growing dark and closing in, each word hit her with a distinct pang. She just needed to explain, if she could just get a hold on herself. He had to hear everything, but she was slipping under. "Ron," she managed to call out weakly and then felt his arms wrap around her as she collapsed. She opened her eyes, blinking, and saw Ron staring down at her, anxiously, but her eyes were still heavy and refused to stay open.

"Hermione? Don't close your eyes, 'Mione," he pleaded. Hermione fluttered her eyes open again and let out a low moan.

"Can you stand up?" he asked after an awkward moment. She waited a moment before responded, enjoying the sensation of his arms tightly fastened around her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she wasn't sure if it was a lie, but needed to be strong enough to explain the truth to Ron, at last. He let her go and stood behind her. "Ron, listen…"

"Ms. Granger," called the untimely voice of Professor McGonagall, opening her door and motioning for her to get inside. Ron had already disappeared around the corner by the time Hermione turned around to see if he would wait for her. She wanted to chase after him, but knew Professor McGonagall would never allow it.

The rumors were spread all through the school by dinner. Ron sat there pushing his food around, a sour look on his face. If he had to hear once more how Viktor Krum came all the way from Bulgaria to see Hermione, or that they were secretly engaged, or that Hermione was carrying his lovechild, he was going to vomit.

"I heard he visited her over break and that's when he asked her," a random third year whispered to the table.

"I heard they vacationed in Rome," another exclaimed.

"I think that's where they're planning their honeymoon," replied the first. Ron threw his fork down and walked away from the excited chatter. He wasn't a fan of the speculation, finding it impossible to be true, not Hermione, his Hermione. It was just gossip, nothing more, he tried to convince himself. He needed to get some air and away from the irritating whirl of lies, so he headed onto the grounds, letting his feet lead the way. No matter how far he went, his thoughts didn't travel any further than what might be going on between Hermione and Krum at that very moment. His curiosity didn't have to wonder long, because he stumbled upon the pair down by the lake. He thought briefly of turning around and leaving them before they had a chance to spot him, but after a second— huffing in agitation, knowing he wasn't going anywhere— he took a few safe steps closer.

Realizing she couldn't follow Ron just yet, Hermione conceded and went with McGonagall into her office to deal with the mess she had created by not being honest. She had to get rid of Krum before she could think about confessing to Ron. She sat with McGonagall and Viktor as she listened to the professor inform her that she sent for Viktor, hoping it would help. She also mentioned that if it didn't, she would have to perform a memory charm to extinguish Viktor from her memory. Hermione realized Viktor was there to claim her love for him in hopes that by having him, she would no longer be held captive by the curse; that his love was suppose to save her. The full magnitude of her lies was finally catching up to her, so she tried to explain to McGonagall that she had it all wrong, but McGonagall would hardly let her get a word out, edgewise. The threat of the memory charm invaded her mind and she thought she needed more time to figure out what to do, because once the truth was out, McGonagall would try to extract Ron from her memory and that she could not fathom. She sat there and tried to image the horror of it. The fact also hit her that she would not only lose Ron, but she would in turn lose most of her memories from the last five and a half years, because so much of her life was intertwined with his. She wondered if she would even be herself after the charm was preformed, or only a shell of what she once was. She decided to go along with what McGonagall asked of her, for the time being, needing time to think of a plan of action. Viktor, Hermione noted, was incredibly happy to see her, though he didn't say much in the office while McGonagall talked, however, he did ask to speak with Hermione alone. McGonagall thought that was a good idea; Hermione wasn't so sure, but knew she couldn't avoid the uncomfortable situation, so she drudgingly agreed. Hermione, also, obliged Viktor when he asked her to walk down by the lake, telling her it reminded him of how he saved her during the tournament. Once they got down there Viktor stopped her by pulling on her hand, and she noticed a serious look on his face. She had been so wrapped up with what she needed to do to save herself from losing Ron, she forgot to worry about what to expect from Viktor.

"I cannot pretend to not be surprised at receiving such a visit from your headmistress at such a late hour. I hardly knew what to make of it," he told her, struggling for the right words. "I always assumed my feelings were greater than yours and that you were content being just friends, all your letters were friendly but they seemed…indifferent. I see now that my public status and reputation for being a ladies' man must have kept you from being honest about how you felt," he continued, holding her tiny hand in both of his. She stood there awkwardly, trying to find a moment to jump in to put a stop to his misguided speech. "McGonagall has told me about the curse and what it has done to you. I wish you had written to me yourself and told me. How awful this must have been for you. If you had just told me I would have come right away. You don't have to be afraid anymore, I—"

"Viktor, wait. I think there has been a great misunderstanding. There is something very important, of severe importance, I have to tell you…"

"No need. I have heard everything and I understand what it is you are afraid of. You are worried I will not feel the same, that I will abandon you when you need me, but I will not do this." He got down on one knee and pulled something out of his pocket; a box.

"Viktor!" Hermione squealed, "Stop this at once. Get up. What are you doing?"

"There is no need to be self conscious around me. You have nothing to fear, anymore. I am a man of honor. I will not let you down. We shall be married and I will take care of you." He held her hand firmly and slipped the ring on her finger. "And you will be safe."

"Viktor, listen to me, please!" she pleaded, angry now. She looked around distressed, as though there was something she could find around her to help get her out of that situation. Her heart stuttered when her eyes came across Ron, who stood some distance away, mouth gaped, watching them.

"Ron, wait!" she called after him. She pulled free of Viktor, without giving him an explanation and ran. She caught up with Ron at the edge of the forbidden forest. He stood there staring at it, like he was debating whether or not to go in. She watched him for a moment before approaching him.

"Ron?" she called hesitantly. He didn't turn to face her as he said, "Well I guess congratulations are in order." He wiped across his face and she wondered if he was crying. She softly patted his back, hesitantly, like he might snap at her any second.

"Oh, Ron. We aren't engaged. I'm not…" But Ron had already whirled around and grabbed her hand, directing her eyes to the evidence.

"Viktor Krum? That's who you decide to give your heart to? Is it the fame? The money? To think I actually thought for a minute…I hope you're very happy together." Hermione suddenly remembered Vivian Hazelwood, her words echoing out from Ron now. It left her speechless and unable to move. "Don't worry— I won't say anything to anyone, so you get the joy of announcing it yourself. Though I should tell you, everyone already suspects as much." He stalked off, without looking back once. Hermione tried to call for him, but she couldn't get any sound to come out. She felt weak, trembling hard, and had a difficult time following after him. She was only able to make it to Hagrid's hut before collapsing to the soft earth.

_The hospital wing again_, she thought miserably. She glanced around at her surroundings and then down at her hand, which still held the ring Viktor gave her. She groaned out loud seeing it there, the memory of everything that followed, surfacing.

"How do you feel? Can you speak easily?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"I feel tired."

"That's natural."

"What time is it?"

" About seven p.m. You've been asleep for two days."

"Two days?" she shouted, shooting upward. Immediately, she regretted it.

"Not so fast. You have to take it slow. I can call in the others back in if you'd like; thought it best not to be overwhelmed when you first woke up. Do you feel ready for visitors?" Hermione nodded, eager to see her friends.

McGonagall, Harry, Ginny, and Viktor came in, all looking exhausted. McGonagall asked her a bunch of standard questions about how she was doing and Hermione responded honestly to each. She felt it was time to come clean about everything. She had made a mess of things and put off the inevitable for too long.

"Where's Ron? Did he not come with you?" she asked troubled.

"He's just outside the ward. He wasn't sure you would want to see him and didn't want to upset you. He feels really cut up about what happened. He blames himself for leaving you there. It wasn't the noblest thing, but I think you should hear him out," Ginny informed her. Hermione was surprised to hear Ron thought he was the one who needed to apologize.

"Of course I'm not mad at him. It's my fault entirely. I haven't been honest at all." She slide off Viktor's ring and gave it back to him, saying, "Viktor, I owe you an apology. You came all the way here for me and were willing to sacrifice so much to try and help, but I cannot accept your proposal, I'm truly sorry for whatever distress this may cause you."

"I don't think I understand," replied Viktor, staring at the ring now in his hand.

"The truth is I lied. Harry assumed it was you and I didn't correct him. I was afraid of what would happen if the truth came out. I didn't realize I was dragging you so far into this and feel just awful for playing with your heart. It was unintentional, you must believe me. You'll find someone who loves you, I'm sure of it, but it isn't me."

"Hermione, what is going on here?" McGonagall cried out.

"It wasn't Viktor. It was never Viktor…it's…it's Ron. It's always been Ron."

"Oh my, I see," said McGonagall.

"So, do it. Do your memory charm," she told the professor and braced herself, as though expecting excruciating pain the next second. "I'm ready. I've accepted my fate. I see now that this is the only way."

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

"I feel like I'm disappearing a bit each second. And I'm just so tired. My heart…I never knew a person could feel so awful and still keep breathing. It isn't fair to put this all on Ron. I can't expect him to… Please, just put an end to it."

"Do you want to see him first? Say some sort of goodbye?"

"No—I think it would be too hard to go through with it if I saw him. I don't know if my heart can take it."

"All right, everyone out," ordered McGonagall.

"What about Ron? What do we tell him when Hermione doesn't recognize him? I think he's going to notice," Harry exclaimed.

"I don't want him to know! Please—" Hermione begged.

"We'll do what we can," said McGonagall, uncertain. Hermione didn't have much of a choice, so she said a hasty goodbye to everyone, not knowing who she would be when she woke up, and prepared for the worst.

Everyone left the room while McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey performed the memory charm. Hermione immediately passed out when it was over. They all hoped tomorrow would be a better day.


	5. Chapter 5 Give It Time

**Chapter Five _ Give It Time**

Ron didn't understand why he was being ordered by everyone to stay away from Hermione. He wasn't allowed to go into the hospital room to see her, and when she got out, he still was not permitted to speak to her. If they thought they could tell him something like that and expect him to follow it without any explanation they were insane. He was only told that it would be incredibly harmful for Hermione if Ron forced himself in her life; a concept he couldn't quite grasp or believe. Even if he tried to speak to her, he knew he wouldn't be allowed with Harry and Ginny making it their mission to keep Hermione away from him. For days, once she got out of the hospital, it was like this; Ron forced to ignore Hermione and pretend like he didn't know her. He noticed she did the same, only she was much better at acting like he didn't exist. Finally, after a week's worth of silence, Ron cornered Harry alone and forced him to talk. Since Hermione had told her secret, Harry was free to speak; still, it didn't make delivering the news any easier. Ron looked like an invisible hand was hammering down on him with every word Harry spoke.

"How could you not tell me?" He was furious. Hot tears burned his eyes.

"I wanted to tell you— I tried, but she did a spell to prevent me from speaking about it, you know how clever she is. But I told her over and over to tell you. I think she wanted to but the curse made her act so mad about things."

"You should have let me see her before she went and Obliterated her mind of me. I never had a chance. I never had a chance to tell her."

"It was her choice. She knew it was the only way. The curse was killing her and she knew it. You didn't see her—"

"That's right! Don't you get it? I could have saved her. I was the only one who could have saved her and everyone stacked against me…some friends you are."

"Ron, you're talking like she died. Hermione's okay. She's doing so much better now. This is just the way it is now. You're going to have to accept it. If you care about her, you'll let her go. There's no other way."

"If I care about her? I. Love. Her! And now…she doesn't even know me. If she sees me, she just walks by like I'm any other faceless student. I thought she was just really angry with me for abandoning her like that, but this— she's not okay. It's unforgiveable what you guys did to her. How many memories is she missing now? Is she even the same person?"

"She's missing a lot of memories because so many were tied to you, but she still has a future to look forward to, something that might not be true if McGonagall didn't do what she did. She's still Hermione, just a little bit foggier. It would have been more unforgivable to just let her die and take whatever chance she has away."

"It isn't fair. I wish McGonagall would Obliterate my mind too, so I didn't have to know all this— carry it around."

"It'll get easier. You'll—," Harry started.

"I'll what? Move on? Forget about her? Do you think I'll forget what I did to her all those months, torturing her, making her sick?"

"You didn't know. It isn't your fault. She doesn't know any of that happened and she can't know. If she remembers the curse will return."

"It would be different. I wouldn't hurt her. I wouldn't leave her."

"You can't be sure. I know you care about her, but you can't know how you will feel later on. If you made her remember only to break her heart later, could you live with yourself if something happened?"

"This isn't some crush I have on some random Veela, Harry. She's the only one for me. I feel like I'll die without her. Maybe the curse is rubbing off on me, too."

"Just give it time. Let her be for now."

So the months carried on and the end of the year was upon them. Harry worried that his friendships between Ron and Hermione were weakening because he had to split his time between them. He was also spending as much time with Ginny as he could and felt guilty for neglecting them both. Hermione was less confused nowadays— accepting that there were a lot of things she would never get back— and she was still at the top of their class. But she grew frustrated a lot, like there were all these thoughts in her mind that were just on the other side of some wall and she couldn't get to them. She wondered why she always seemed to have dreams involving that quiet moody red-headed boy in her house. She didn't think he liked her much, always avoiding her and giving her one word responses if any at all. He hung out with Harry a lot, but never when he was around her. She wished she could remember all the missing parts, but was just thankful everyone was very patient with her. All Hermione knew was she was in a terrible flying accident and it caused her to lose a lot of her memory. She thought it was odd that she had a flying accident, seeing as she hated to fly, but then that was probably why she had the accident in the first place, or why she now hated flying.

One day, making her way to the library, turning a corner, she ran straight into the redheaded boy, her head colliding with his chest.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention," said Hermione nervously. She hoped he couldn't hear her heart pounding out of her chest.

"My fault." Ron nodded and began to walk away.

"Where are you off to?"

"Quidditch practice. We have one more game left."

Hermione thought this might be the longest conversation they had ever had. "You're the keeper, right? I've seen you play. You're very good." She smiled shyly, but noticed Ron was frowning and not looking directly at her. It was killing her that he wouldn't look her in the eyes. He had the most intense, piercing blue eyes and she needed to see them now. Sometimes, she could swear she felt his intense gaze on her when she wasn't looking, but it was only a feeling.

"Er— thanks," he replied awkwardly. He looked like he was in pain.

"I'm sorry if I'm keeping you, it's just this is the most you've ever talked to me. We're both one of Harry's best friends and yet we never speak, don't you think that's strange?"

"Well, you're in the library a lot. We just have different interests, I guess."

"It isn't because you don't like me?" She had a nervous laugh as she asked. He looked at her now, straight in the eye, his cool blue eyes looked devastatingly gorgeous.

"I don't hate you." He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out.

"I know this might sound weird, but sometimes, more than sometimes, I get this feeling when I'm around you, like…Oh, I don't know… it's like…I miss you…Does that make sense?"

Ron's heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. He wanted so desperately to tell her everything and grab her in his arms, make her remember, but the words of Harry, Ginny, and even McGonagall flooded his mind.

"I feel very close to you…like we have this bond…" She laughed again and blushed. "That sounds silly, doesn't it? And now I'm totally making you feel uncomfortable, aren't I? I'm sorry. I'll go." She tried to laugh in order to sound less distressed and embarrassed.

"No, wait," Ron said quickly and grabbed onto her wrist. Ron had spent every night, since he found out the truth, thinking of this moment and what he would do. He knew his love for Hermione was a forever kind of love and that was exactly what he wanted with her if he ever got the chance again. "Don't go."

Hermione caught her breath, the walls in her mind shuddering.

"I miss you, too," said Ron softly, pulling her close and whispering in her ear.

"I don't understand." Her voice trembled and she gazed up at his face for clarity. He took her face in his hands, debating the moment. Her eyes stared into his intensely as she waited.

"You don't remember because you chose to forget. You had to in order to save yourself from what it was doing to you."

"You're not making any sense. I had an accident. I fell off a broom."

"That's just the story they had to tell you, so you wouldn't be suspicious."

"They?"

"Harry, Ginny, McGonagall, Dumbledore, everyone."

"You?"

"It was supposed to be for the best; to keep you safe."

"You lied to me…You all lied to me?"

"I didn't want to do it, but I was afraid of really losing you. I couldn't take it if something happened to you, Hermione…I wish you remembered me. I wish you knew." He stroked her face with his hand, brushing away the fresh fallen tears, his own eyes brimming over.

"Why are you crying?" she asked oddly. "What am I suppose to remember?"

His voice was a soft whisper as he said, "Remember me. Remember us."

She searched her mind, but all she could remember was the Ron she knew since her accident or the Ron of her dreams. She searched his eyes for answer, frustrated with herself.

"Were we together?"

"…No— not exactly. But—"

"Did you _want_ to be with me?" she asked. It was all she could manage.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Why don't you tell me now?"

Ron thought for a moment, studying her face, trying to think of the right thing to say, or where to begin. The realness of the moment was sinking in and he suddenly felt much older than sixteen, standing there with Hermione, an invisible wall between them, that he had to get through. He took both her hands in his as he began. "I love you, Hermione. I love you so much I feel all wrong when I'm not around you. I can't image my life without you in it. I would do anything to keep you safe, anything to make you happy, and anything to make you mine; if I could just make you remember." He finished by kissing both her hands, adoringly. He never thought he was very good at showing his feelings, or being romantic, but the recent overwhelming events, the maddening separation from the only girl in his heart, made expressing his true passions for her come as easily and naturally as breathing.

"So make me remember," she told him and grabbed his face in her hands, pulling it closer to her. Ron wrapped his arms around her firmly and slowly leaned in the rest of the way until his lips touched hers. Ever so lightly his lips traced over hers. He pulled back slowly and gazed into her eyes. She looked nervous, but in a good way. He pressed his lips to hers again, this time the kiss was not so gently. His lips crushed against hers and moved hungrily. Hermione's response was just as intense and full of need. He lifted her up into his arms, not breaking the kiss, holding her to him. When they finally broke the kiss off, they were both breathing hard. Ron looked at her anxiously, not sure what to expect. The longer she stood there, not saying anything, the more uncertain Ron became.

"It's okay if you don't remember. That was sort of the point. Don't feel bad, I mean, if you're worried about hurting me." He spoke quickly but he tried to keep his voice even, even though he was coming undone on the inside.

"Shh—Just give me a second," she shushed, while silencing him with her hand at the same time. She turned and paced a few steps, stopped and looked up at him, then resumed pacing. This went on for a few minutes before Ron couldn't handle it anymore.

"Oh, Bloody Hell, Hermione, do you remember anything? Say something!" he yelled, exasperated.

"Hold on a minute. There's something there. Ugh— I can't see it though," Hermione sighed, frustrated.

"Just take it slow. Don't rush it." He turned to face her, patient once more, and took her hands in his to calm her. "What do you remember? Do you see any familiar faces or any place in particular?"

"No, it's just darkness, but there's something…oh!" Her face lit up as something clicked.

"What?"

"I remember you, your voice in the hospital, in the darkness. I remember you." She closed her eyes tightly, trying to pull the memory from her mind. She could once again feel the firmness of the hospital bed and being tightly bound beneath the sheets. A warm strong hand clasped around her as a heavenly voice floated into her mind, fighting against the darkness. "You told me I wasn't allowed to leave you. You said if I didn't wake up soon, you would challenge Viktor to a duel for my heart and then I'd be sorry when I had to see how terribly he pummeled you," she smiled.

"That's when I thought I had to vie for your attention. Can you believe I ever thought you might like a mindless oaf like Krum?" He was teasing her now.

"How can I love such a fool?" she asked, smiling.

"So, you do love me?" Under his light smile there was an intensity burning deep, "Even if you don't remember everything?"

"I remember how I feel…" Ron was elated to hear her tell him that even though she was under the memory charm, she still was able to hold onto her feelings for him. It gave him hope and he tried to think of what to do to help her remember everything. He couldn't let this moment slip away.

"The first time I met you," he paused and gave her a once over, "I thought you were the bossiest, most conceited, goodie two-shoes, know-it-all, I had ever met. I found you oddly annoying, much more than other girls I'd ever known before," he smiled and kissed her forehead before continuing, "Which may have had something to do with the way my heart seemed to annoyingly speed up when you were around. Then you had to go and almost get crushed by that troll, and to top it all off, you stood up for Harry and me when we were going to get in trouble for the whole mess. It was all over after that; we were stuck with you." He wrapped her in his arms and he talked into her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder, as she stared out the tower window trying to grab a hold of what Ron was telling her.

"Of course I was right about the know-it-all thing, but what would we have done without it? We probably would have been chop-liver for that three-headed dog years ago. I don't think I ever appreciated enough the brilliance of that amazing mind of yours. And you proved me wrong, time and again, about the goodie-two-shoes thing, though let's face it, you always did have more of a moral conscience than us…Tell me you remember SPEW?" he laughed, wanting to make her smile.

"I wish I could tell you the first instant I knew how I felt about you, but I'm still not really sure. It happened so gradually. You were always one of the most important and constant people in my life since our first year here. We went through so much together, the three of us, I guess I was afraid of rocking the boat…oh, who am I kidding? I never thought you'd take me. I thought you would never see me that way, I mean who was I? And even if I had gotten, under some fantastical circumstance, the chance to be with you, I was sure I'd blow it immediately. I was always making a mess of things. I can tell you this year has been nothing but torture," he blushed, realizing his blunder; she had endured more torture, he thought, than he would ever know.

She seemed to sense his apprehension, saying, "You don't give yourself enough credit, you know." Suddenly her face got scrunched up, reminding Ron of when she was trying to decipher a very tricky Arithmancy Chart.

"Chess," she stated abruptly. Ron looked at her strangely. "On the chess board, you scarified yourself so we could get through. Your knight got pulverized. You did it without giving it a second thought; without concern for yourself. And I never looked at you quite the same after that."

"You—"

"Malfoy called me a mudblood and you stood up for me…you ate slugs," she said, her eyebrows rising. "I was happy—taken aback— that it was you— the gallantry, not the slugs." She wasn't done yet. "I remember the first time I went to the Burrow— there was so much warmth there. I felt like I was home. The first time you _really_ hugged me; do you remember? This last summer when I returned to the Burrow before school began. It was the first time we saw each other since we were ambushed at the Department of Mysteries, aside from my half conscious state at St. Mungo's. You were alone in your room when I came in."

"I remember," he told her with a fever in his voice.

"Usually, we would say an awkward hello and move on, but that time, it was different, without thinking you rushed toward me and swooped me up into your arms. I tried to control my surprise and the thrill shooting through me. I had never felt anything like it—"

"I didn't realize how much I missed you till I saw you standing there. I'm sure if Fred or George had been anywhere near I would never have risked it," he mused a second, then grasping the moment added, "do you remember anything else?" He absentmindedly played with her hair as he spoke.

"I remember it all—I think—every moment I lost. I was trying to picture what you were telling me; the troll, and the three-headed dog, and then you said the thing about feeling tortured and the chess game just popped into my head," she said in a low whisper, Ron found incredibly freeing.

"Go on, ask me something," she encouraged him, excitedly.

They stayed up there, alone, for a long while, not in any hurry to go back to crowded space of the common room, plus Ron was pretty sure he was in for some serious lectures for disobeying orders. He couldn't help it; there was no way he could stay away from her forever, especially when she wouldn't let him. Eventually, they realized they had to go back. They debated keeping them a secret, but thought better of it; secrets had gotten them in enough trouble. Ron held her hand, gave her a steady look and then led her into the room. Before entering he leaned over and gave her a reassuring kiss. Everyone had been told something of Hermione's condition, but they didn't know much, but most people knew Ron was not supposed to be around her, much less holding her hand. They received a lot of shocked stares and a perfectly timed, collective gasp. To Ron's surprise, Harry didn't say anything critical about them.

"I can't say I'm not a bit nervous, but I had a feeling this would happen, eventually," Harry told them calmly. Ginny was another story. She yelled at Ron, calling him a few offensive terms before conceding, and that was the end of it, at least for the night. McGonagall was another story the next day, taking them both in her office and lecturing them. They were too happy to be phased by her warnings. It would be different for them, they thought, because they truly were in love.


	6. Chapter 6 A Time For Action

**Chapter Six_ The Time For Ac**tion

Hermione lured Ron into a dark, quiet corner of the library, away from any prying eyes. Ron went easy, his lips surrendering to hers at once. It was only one day since Hermione's mind broke through the memory charm and they felt they had a lot of lost time to make up. While Hermione was busy showing Ron just how fun the library could be, Harry was finding out he was about to go on the very important and dangerous trip Dumbledore had told him about. He had little time to lose before he went and wanted to do everything he could to keep his friends safe, while Dumbledore was away from the castle that night. He had a bad feeling something was going to go down, specifically with Malfoy.

"Ron, Hermione!" he called breathlessly, catching them on their way into the portrait opening. "I don't have much time…"

Ron and Hermione did what Harry asked and watched for Malfoy. They enlisted the help of Neville, Ginny, and Luna as well. Ron told Hermione to go with Luna and watch out for Snape. He thought it was safer to have her away from whatever Malfoy was up to. If Harry was right and Snape was involved, it was very unlikely he would do anything to hurt Hermione, while Malfoy was much more of a loose cannon. It was hard for Ron to separate himself from her, not knowing if something bad was about to happen, but he knew Hermione could handle herself with a wand. When Malfoy gave him and the other two the slip he began to panic. Loud commotions that sounded like fighting had him moving at a fast pace to see what had happened. Heading toward the Astronomy tower he felt some relief when they ran into members of the Order, but it was short lived— Greyback and Death Eaters were upon them as well.

"Hermione!" he called, when he saw her small frame come into view. He ran toward her, desperately, reaching her in just enough time to push her out of the way of a treacherous curse, hurtling their way. He shielded her with his body while rubble and debris fell around them. The room was erupting in destruction. Everywhere he turned there were Death Eaters and flying curses. He stood up with her, his back to hers, holding her hand, as they deflected curses and sent out some of their own. They cautiously made their way to an empty corridor to regroup.

"Stay here. I have to check on Bill," he ordered.

"No. I can't stay here with all that going on. I have to help."

"Hermione— no— it's too dangerous."

"If you're going, than so I am," she replied defiantly, following him out. It only took a few steps before they were dodging more wild curses. Suddenly, Hermione tripped, bringing them both down.

"Luna!" she cried, realizing she had fallen over her. She appeared injured, but conscious.

"You have to get her out of here, before something happens to her. I'll watch your back." This time Hermione listened to him.

"Don't do anything stupid, Ronald Weasley," she told him sternly. He kissed her forehead fervently and then he was gone. Hermione dragged Luna to a safe hiding spot and then went back out to join the fight. She stepped into the collapsing space, at the bottom of the tower stairs, just in time to deflect a jinx heading right for Ginny. She ran over to her, thinking it was safer if they were together. She looked up to see Ron running past them, unaware of the two of them standing there. She also noticed a Death Eater following close behind him.

"Ron!" she called, anxiously. She chased after him and caught up just in time to see, from the other side of the room, a seething killing curse strike Ron right in the chest, sending him flying back into the stone wall. The Death eater who sent it was long gone before Ron hit the floor.

"Noo!" she shouted, sliding down next to him and shaking him. "Ron— no—don't leave me. You can't die, I just got you back. Ron, please. Please—" She was sobbing into his chest, but Ron didn't stir; his skin already ice cold.

"Hermione, you have to get away from him. The wall is collapsing. It's going to crush you both," Neville told her, pulling on her arm.

"No. No. I won't leave him. Help me with him. We need to move him."

"There's nothing we can do for him now, you have to think about yourself. Come on," Neville said sadly, releasing her hold from Ron and dragging her away.

Seconds later the wall gave out, burying Ron underneath. Hermione let out a devastating wail, stumbling as she was pulled further from him. Neville passed Hermione off to Ginny, but she hardly noticed anything. She just kept repeating, "no, no, no," under her breath. Ginny led Hermione outside where others were gathered, they were both crying softly. Hermione glanced around as though she was going to see Ron popped out from somewhere, but then she replayed the scene of his death again in her head and her heart tore excruciatingly once again.

"I can't breathe…I can't—" she gasped, "Ron," she moaned, her eyes rolling back. The pain in her heart kept growing and growing, and Hermione felt like she was drowning. The pain was too intense. The darkness was seeping in, and she couldn't fight it off any longer, rather, she welcomed it. Ron was gone and all that was left of her heart were the remaining shattered pieces that cut into her like knives. She thought she tasted blood in her mouth, as she felt the shallowness of her last breath, and then she recalled nothing.

"…Can you hear me?" the mournful voice asked angrily. "Open your eyes. I've already lost you too many times. I refuse to lose you again. Now wake up. Come on, Hermione. Breathe— Don't you dare give up now. You can beat this. You have to hold on. Listen to my voice. Come back to me."

Hermione could hear Ron's frantic voice, but couldn't find her voice to respond. _Was she dead?_ she wondered confused. _But why did he sound like that, then?__He wasn't making sense._ She could feel Ron's hand tightly gripped around hers and tried to squeeze it back, but felt too weak. She couldn't comprehend what if this was real, or if this was all a dream or delusion. She saw Ron die before her eyes and yet it was his voice in her ear now.

"She's breathing shallow and her heartbeat sounds so weak. You have to do something," he begged McGonagall, peering up at her from the ground where he cradled Hermione. "Hermione, please wake up. I'm all right. I know what you think you saw, but it wasn't me… I'm right here. Hermione, can you hear me?" He was pulled away so they could perform reviving charms, but after what felt like forever, Hermione was showing no signs of improvement.

"We should get her inside and in bed," said McGonagall, worried.

"Her lips are turning blue," said Tonks, clasping Lupin's arm.

"No!" shouted Ron, falling back down beside her. He placed his mouth over hers and breathed out. He repeated his actions a few times, whispering her name in between. He was relieved when he saw her chest rise again, but he was still trembling with fear.

"You're supposed to keep my heart safe, remember. It's yours. It's no use to me without you," he whispered in her ear. "So, you can't go anywhere without it. And you can't leave me alone, 'Mione. I need you. You are my heart. I love you." He hugged himself close to her, his tears dampening her cheek. He held her tightly, knowing the second he let go would be the second he completely became unraveled.

_Only at the weakest breath, may the broken heart be restore. If love proves true, one heart replaced by another, accrued_.

"R-o-n," a weak gently voice spoke from beneath him.

His face instantly shot up, his gasp turning into a brilliant smile, while his voice shook with relief-filled laughter. He kissed away the tears staining her face, then pulled back to take in the stunning depth to her hazel brown eyes, that seconds before he feared he would never see again.

"Are we dead?" she asked blithely, as she gazed at him in amazement.

"No," he laughed, "you're stuck with me."

"Good," she replied easily, then added mystified, "But I saw you. I was there. I saw it happen and…"

"No, that wasn't me. It was a decoy to get to us. I'll explain everything later, but I would feel a lot better if I could get you inside. You need to rest." Hermione's eyes closed as Ron lifted her off the ground. She was barely cognizant of the growing crowd or the emerging sadness suffocating the air, but she felt safe in Ron's arms, and with the promise that he wouldn't leave her side, she fell asleep.

"You're here," said Hermione beaming, just waking up in the bustling hospital ward of Hogwarts.

"Course I am. I said I would be." He was almost offended by the idea of him being anywhere else.

"I mean you're _here,_ it wasn't just a wonderful dream." She sat up, taking in her surroundings.

"How are you? Do you hurt much?"

"Actually, I feel great, I mean, I ache all over, but on the bright side, no more curse, and I feel like myself again."

"Still love me?"

"Eh—" she teased, smiling deviously, "What, almost dying wasn't proof enough… speaking of which, how is everyone else? Is anyone…"

"Bill's a mess— Greyback got his teeth in him, people got hurt last night, scrapes and bruises mostly, a few broken bones…" he paused for a long moment, knowing it would be hard to hear. "Are you sure you're well enough for this?" he asked wearily.

"Ron, what is it? Is it Harry? Ginny? Are they all right? Oh, god, tell me what happened."

"It's Dumbledore…"

"Dumbledore got hurt?" she asked surprised. Ron shook his head, miserably.

"I don't understand."

"Snape got him on the Astronomy tower. Harry was right all along. Hermione, Dumbledore is gone. He's dead." She clasped her hand over her mouth in horror, unable to speak. She couldn't believe it, Dumbledore couldn't be dead, she thought.

"I let him go. I was supposed to keep track of him and he ran out, telling us to check on Professor Flitwick. I was so stupid. I just let him go. If I hadn't," she whispered wretchedly, blaming herself. Ron stepped in, cutting her off, not allowing her to blame herself for this.

"If you had tried anything, Snape would have taken you too. There was nothing you could have done."

"I just can't believe he's gone."

"I guess we're really on our own now. We have to stay together. Wherever Harry is going now, we can't let him go alone."

"About that, how is it you're here when I saw you get hit by that killing curse?" The thought gave her shivers, seeing the scene play over again in her mind.

"We think Malfoy must have somehow got a hold of some of my hair and gave it to the Death Eaters to make a Polyjuice Potion. I don't know why he chose me, maybe he just took a chance when he saw one, or maybe it was the red hair. There were two decoys posing as myself. They thought they could confuse us and make us susceptible to their ploy. What you saw in the stairwell was just another Death Eater who got hit by one of his own, you have to remember that."

She pulled him onto her small bed with her, tucking herself under his arm. "It's a bit easier when I have you with me."

Ron seemed hesitant as Hermione secured herself to him and she became self conscious as to why he was acting that way, so she called him on it. "I'm afraid I'm going to damage you or something. You've been through a lot," he confessed.

"I'm tougher than I look and I feel better every minute. See—," she said and then suddenly grabbed his arms and pinned him under her. He easily wrestled her back to their original position, only this time he wasn't afraid to hold her to him, snugly. She laid her head across his chest, pressing her ear over his heart, concentrating on its sound.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he murmured truthfully, dropping the pretense that he was untroubled by last night's events. "I've never been so afraid in my life. I felt you slipping away and I was helpless to do anything about it." He traced random patterns on her arm lightly with his finger tips as he spoke. Hermione turned in his arms suddenly and slapped his chest roughly.

"Ow." His tone was bemused, wondering where that came from.

"Helpless?" she remarked incredulously, "I'm here right now because _you_ refused to let me go. Your love broke the curse; it brought me back." He couldn't keep a straight face as she reproached him for being so idiotic; her face was so adorable when she corrected him. His curious smile caused her to break off her heartfelt rant, flushing. "You can't get me worked up like that," she said trying not to crack a smile, but failing.

"I guess I'll have to find a better way to get you all worked up," he replied deviously. She irrupted in a fit of giggles as his hands attacked her. She was only silenced when his mouth locked onto hers and his hands began moving in a whole different way, which produced a whole other sound from her. Their kissing only ended when they were interrupted Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain to check on her patient. As soon as the curtain was closed again they were back to their private sanctuary, where no one could reach them, at least for a little while longer.


End file.
